


Doves & Ravens Fly the Same.

by Restlessgirl



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: M/M, Otabek's POV, barcelona, complicated but no so complicated, pre grand pre final, pre grand pri final special, yuri's angels - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-10
Updated: 2019-10-23
Packaged: 2020-10-14 06:28:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20596223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Restlessgirl/pseuds/Restlessgirl
Summary: This is the first of multiple works! Following our favourite angsty skaters. A will they, won't they scenario, starting with Otabek Altin's POV in Barcelona.





	1. Chapter 1

_I hadn’t meant to ride my bike down the alley. I hadn’t meant to play the hero. I’d meant to mind my own business, driving out of those dusty streets to clear my head on my own. Obviously someone else had different plans for me._

The first morning in Barcelona saw Otabek Atlin fussing over his motorbike that he picked up last night. She was a sleek model, nicer than he thought he would be renting, especially with the budget he’d been looking at. The guy who owned the rental store had actually seen him skate in Skate America and had been overly humbled to be serving him which had made Otabek feel a little awkward. He’d mumbled something about not wanting to be much of a bother but the excitement of the man showing him the machines at the back had Otabek come alive.

She was situated in the workstation _‘I’d just finished tinkering on her last night with some upgrades’_,_ She’s all yours for the days you’re here!”_

Looking at her design, he knew she wouldn’t be within his budget but the man just smiled and asked how much he had and charged him just that. When he was offered two helmets for some reason he took both. Not that anyone else would have the time to ride with him.

Polishing, he took a step back to admire her, wishing he could take her back to Kazakhstan and replace his own well loved bike. Feeling immediate betrayal he made up his mind to give his own beauty an upgrade and attention before some squealing from over the road brought him to his senses. Six girls, all with kitten ears were crawling by the hotel, screaming a name and giggling. Rolling his eyes he adjusted his helmet and glasses. No way was he going to be seen by Yuri’s Angels – the most obsessive fanbase he’d ever seen. They fawn over the other skaters too, probing for information on the Russian Fairy. He doesn’t want to get caught up in that. Bringing his bike to the road he spots a familiar figure hidden between a crook in the wall. Yuri Plisetsky himself. He shakes his head, starting up his motorbike, fully intent on driving off.

_No. No that is not the way you want to go. Just leave it-_

Somehow his body takes him, and he’s in front of the boy, drawing the attention of the girls searching for him.

_AHHH YURAHSCHA!_

"Yuri. Get on.”

He tries to look straight ahead, hands tight on the handles. He glances to the side, lowering his glasses. He's met with those green eyes, wide with surprise and turns away as the wind gently moves the boy’s fair hair. He hopes his leather jacket hides the blush that creeps up his neck. Shit. He’s not saying anything. Feeling the need to end this embarrassment he shoves the second helmet into the boy’s hands.

“What will it be, coming or not?”

The girls behind them have started clicking their cameras, getting closer with increased giggling. Yuri cautiously gets on, helmet in place. His foot on the pedal, Otabek takes him down the alley at speed, leading to a sharp intake of breath from Yuri behind as the younger skater grips him from behind. Now where? Otabek hadn’t really thought this part through. He drives them to the outskirts, the sun getting low. Arriving at a quieter tourist building, they dismount, Otabek naturally going to take off Yura's helmet, and move the hair from his eyes. _Shit. He's not a child. Why did I do that? _ He turns away quickly missing the heat bloom in Yuri's cheeks. They walk up to the roof of the building, over looking Barcelona and viewing the setting sun. Their chatter turns to their skating. Otabek admits being in the same ballet class for skaters in St Petersburg, Yuri's eyes fixated on him. Only when Yuri confronts him, turning straight to him with those eyes does he make up his mind to be honest. 

"Otabek, why would you talk to me? We're rivals."

"When I first met you I always thought we were alike. And that's it, not so complicated really. So, friends?" 

He extended his hand and warmth spread through him when Yuri's gentle hand filled it. Nudging each other with awkward chuckling as they walked back down to the bike, Yuri suggested getting food. 

"I think that's a given." 

Back on the bike, Otabek smiled as he sped off back to the centre, slower than before. That didn't stop the blonde's hands circling around his waist, holding himself to him. 

_Not so complicated at all really. _


	2. Born to make History

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuri P - POV - What happens after he wins Gold at the Grand Prix. 
> 
> Or| Can he catch the attention of Otabek Altin before/during/after the banquet?

There's a roaring in his ears, bright lights in his eyes that have him squint at the multiple people shaking his hands. His legs still feel like jelly after that free skate, a free skate that wasn't worth the gold around his neck. _Piggy_ beat his free skate score fair and square, yet even clinching gold for his short program score makes him feel cold inside. _It wasn't good enough. I'm better than this._ A pair of warm firm hands pull Yuri into focus and he locks eyes with the person in question before those same hands embrace him. 

"You did amazing, Yuri." 

Yuri closes his eyes at the whisper in his ear, breathing in at the scent of musk, cologne and mixed spice which warms him to the core of his stomach. Just as he's getting used to it the weight and warmth is gone with a flash of blue and white and he's staring back out at the ice in front of him. Altin has moved on to congratulate JJ, even though his mouth has thinned slightly, and there's more of a restraint in his congratulations. Yuri bites back the urge to shout at the injustice of it all. Fucking JJ shouldn't even be on the podium with the amount of mistakes he made. Otabek was more than fourth place, he performed with such power and courage there was no way he should have been beaten. And it was flawless. He gritted his teeth, reminded of how he felt when JJ had out performed him in Moscow even with Yuri's personal best. Maybe he's sleeping with the judges. From the corner of his eye he sees Otabek turn back to look him but before he can find out if he wanted to say anything there's a tap on his left. With huge annoyance he turns, preparing to bite the head of the person who interrupted him when Katsuki's face smiles at him. 

"We made it ey? Next year, I'll be gunning for your gold." 

"Yeah yeah Piggy, next year I'll blow your record out of the water and then you'll go home crying." His voice doesn't hold his usual annoyance. He's weirdly okay with the fact Katsuki's coming back next year- finally he's learning not to be a disappointment to him. "Surprised you're not hurrying back to old man. This must have been the longest you've been apart, da?"

Katsuki just laughs and lightly punches his shoulder, stepping off the podium as if Yuri's question had actually reminded him about Victor. He watches him skate off towards him with a sigh, stepping off himself. JJ is already eating Bella's face next to him and he doesn't want to be involved in that disgusting photo. He finds himself searching for where Otabek went, that familiar blue and white hoodie. Maybe they can jump the rink and head back out on the bike and breathe in more of Barcelona. He finds him off the ice, chatting to his coach as he removes his skates. His hair delicately falling out of his normally perfect style, making him look slightly rugged. Shaking himself he looks away. Of course he'll have other plans, he shouldn't hound him. He doesn't need him. He will find something perfectly fun to do before the banquet tonight- which will just be taken over by the _embarrassing two that can't hold an ounce of their liquor. _He slowly makes his way back to Yakov and Lilia, who's in the process of drying her eyes. 

"Yuri!" Yakov punches in the air, his red face a clear sign he's managed to drink quite a bit in the half an hour of the ceremony in celebration. Before he can berate him, Lilia squeezes his shoulder, her mouth in a wicked grin. 

"Well done Yuri. You've become something more beautiful and ever evolving. You've truly exceeded expectation." 

_No. I've just done the average. I can do better._ But not knowing how to answer to this Yuri just finds himself hmming and nodding. Following them out of the rink he shrinks into his Russian hoodie Lilia had handed to him. Barcelona really is fucking cold this time of year. Back in the Grand Hotel, they offer to buy him a drink but he declines- even after Lilia's push of _just this once _even though he wouldn't be of legal age for another two years and three months. Leaving at the bar he escapes into the shelter of the elevator, pulling out his phone and slouching against the wall, his hoodie now pulled low over his face. He had a few notifications, Leo tagging the final six in a _well done post. _Fucking cheesy shit. Michele had a few posts for Sara who had come away with bronze- ooft that must sting. She's posed with Mila whose grinning with her silver. Hag at least made it onto the podium this year. He sends her a finally text before going back to Instagram. Though he wishes he hadn't bothered. The photo makes him want to throw his phone hard against the mirror. Victor has his arms around Yuuri, who's grinning like mad with his silver medal, allowing the old man to nuzzle into the side of his face. The sight makes Yuri want to throw up. He shove his phone back into his pocket, his face pulled into a dark scowl as a heavy ache spreads in his stomach which just makes him more angry. 

_Why does he even care about the old man and pork cutlet bowl? __Why does he care that people have another people to talk to? _His mind wanders to Otabek and he quickly shakes the thought out his mind. Since the other skater had asked him to be friends a few days ago, they'd become just that. They'd talked, shared stories over tea and food like they'd been friends for years...and that terrified him. No one was really able to get behind his guard. No one. 

Apart from Otabek it seems. 

He checked his phone again, curiosity sparking as he pulls up the search bar. 

**Otabek Altin | This account is Private. Request Friendship. **

He clicks his tongue in annoyance but requests anyway. How lame. Having to beg for friendship over social media. He was normally above such things. But Otabek had asked him to be friends, so surely this was just cementing the deal. The whole "private" social media thing was alien to Yuri. He used his phone the same as he used air. The. Whole. Damn. Time. Snapping pictures of Potya, clothes, city streets or food - all uploaded, filtered and edited with the neatest captions and tags. It also helped him see a bit more of the world and people around him, even though he ridiculed nearly everyone else anyway. 

A sigh of relief escapes him when the door closes quietly behind him in his room. The rawness of the silence engulfs him, his ears still ringing from the cheers of the crowd and the loud anthem that blares across the ice when the medals are given. Peeling off his costume, he jumps straight in the hot shower appreciating the heat on his aching muscles. The fall he took on his leg was already sprouting it's own trophey with a nice purple bruise- good thing he had some time to let that rest. Once out of the shower, towelled dry he pulls on a hoodie and leggings and settles back onto the bed with his phone. Still no acceptance of his friend request. He must be busy. With cool things. His stomach rumbles in protest at being neglected and he rustles in his bag for something of sustenance. There's meant to be food at the banquet tonight, but it's normally finger food - and what the fuck is that when it's at home? He wants to feast like a king not some bird.

A unfulfilling protein bar later and a two hour nap later, his phone buzzes. 

_Ahhh finally Altin- Katsuki. _He frowns. What does pork cutlet bowl want now? 

**Yurio! We're leaving for the banquet in a few - Victor wants to know if you're ready?**

_It's six forty five and the damn banquet only opens at seven. _Yuri rolled his eyes, fingers typing back fast.

**Seriously pork cutlet bowl - you losers will be the first ones there!**

**And you'll be with us!**

Rolling his eyes, he turned over with a groan, his muscles already stiff. Pulling himself up he slides his leg vertically up the wardrobe, letting his hands bend over to hold the bed, his head upside down as he breathes. Is Otabek going tonight? Is he the sort of person to show up early? Would they be able to talk more and leave the other losers behind? Catching himself in the mirror, he sees his slept in braided pony tail, the smudge of foundation revealing his dark eye bags. Jesus he had some work to do. Otabek doesn't hang out with losers. 

An hour later, he's walking down the corridor to hall of the banquet. He'd declined the sickos invitation of walking with them, he wanted to make his own entrance. He hoped he was fashionably late that everyone else was there and he'd be able to zoom straight in on Otabek naturally. Pushing open the doors he was met with a buzz of chatter, and gentle notes from the piano in the corner. No one turned when he came in, the room stayed the same as he weaved through people, trying not to look desperate as he searched for his friend. A excited pair of hands grabbed his arm and pulled him into an embrace. 

"Yurio! I didn't get to congratulate you on winning your gold! I knew with my program you could do it!" Victor crushed him to his chest, his mouth open in that sickening heart shape it normally is. "And look at you!"  
  


"What?" Yuri's tone is biting as Victor observes him. "You've never seen superior fashion before, huh Victor?"

"You just look exquisite!" 

"Egh, enough." He sticks out his tongue and folds his arms over his chest, eyes still searching the room for Otabek. 

"He's not here, you know. He doesn't come to these sorts of things." 

"Who?! I'm not looking for anyone." Yuri feels his cheeks warm and keeps his head down, for looking at that old man's laughing face would just make him want to punch it. He grabs a drink off a tray and downs it before Victor can say anything and walks further into the room. It's busier than usual, he sees Sara talking excitedly with Mila, both wearing dark dresses with sequins adorned to outline. He sees them laugh and drink together and he feels his mood sour even more. He grabs another drink and heads to a secluded corner, taking off his jacket. Victor's words swim around his head. _He's not here you know. _How dare he know or even fucking assume to know who he was looking for. But...just in case he was right...did that mean Otabek wouldn't be here at all? Where else was he spending the night? He pulls out his phone as if hoping to find his friend request accepted but all that stared at him was a clear picture of Potya. Leaning back into the sofa, he sighs and pushes his head back against the head rest. So. Fucking. Stupid. Why was he being such a desperate sap? He doesn't know how long he stays like that until he feels a dip next to him and he sighs angrily. 

"Pork cutlet, isn't there a pole for you to strip off with?" 

There's not an immediate answer, and he peeks at him from one eye. Katsuki is smiling at him, and ugh. It's DISGUSTING. 

"You okay?"  
  


"Why wouldn't I be?"

"Well, you look amazing. And that seems like you planned on having a good time but here you are, sipping your drink alone in the corner looking sad."   
  


_Damn Katsuki and his ability to read people. _

"Shut up. I dress perfectly everywhere and I hate these events anyway."

"Uhuh." 

Yuri hated the way Yuuri really knew how to get under his skin. But in a caring way. He couldn't fault him, and it truly pissed him off. He sighed, feeling the drinks he'd consumed earlier help him open his mouth. 

"I thought Otabek would be here."

"Oh. Victor said he never comes to these things."

"Yeah, I'm now painfully aware." He can feel himself sulking, his mouth almost at a pout. Katsuki watches him for a moment before jumping up and grabbing his hand.

"Well, we're not wasting that perfect outfit! Come here!" He feels himself being pulled up much to his own reluctance, the older skater's arm around him as his phone is held above. The reflection showed both of them looking pretty good (not that Yuri would admit it). 

"Smile!" 

Yuri makes his best _I look cooler than you pose _but keeps his eyes straight at the camera. He feels his phone buzz as Yuuri uploads it on his Instagram, before he looks across and gives him a warm smile. "Come on, let's get out of here."

"What? But don't you and Victor have to stay and make boring small talk about his stupid come back?" 

"Nah. We don't want to do that- well I don't. Victor can talk forever about it but I think he'll be happy to go."

"Go where?"

"Just trust me!"

Yuri almost rolls his eyes, he doesn't trust him at all but he let's himself be pulled out to the exit where Victor seems to know to wait for them. 

*

"What are we doing here?"

The place Yuuri had wanted to take them, was back at the rink. It was eerily empty, no people, no press, no coaches. But Victor had managed to turn on the warm lighting, and find a speaker. All three were on the ice in their banquet attire, which would have been a sight to behold if anyone was actually aware of where they were. 

"Well, I think it would be pretty good if we let off some steam - together. And we've never just _skated _together. I think we should."

"This sounds like some sappy shit for you two, not me."

"Come now, Yurio. You can get lost in this - just let yourself have some fun, hm?" Victor laughs lightly and starts the music.

An almost jazzy intro fills the rink and Yuri wants to sneer but a more moving voice starts to sing the first verse which gives him pause. Yuuri leads the way just skating up the ice from side to side, a hand to his ear. He spins and Victor cuts neatly in front of him as the verse builds, spinning and smiling freely, they both gesture at Yuri to join in and even though he feels like an idiot, he lets himself skate over to them, spinning in time with the music. They overlap, spin out and come together and to Yuri's surprise never actually crash into one another. He finds himself smiling, letting his own frustrations earlier in the evening fall away. Hell, he even forgets about Otabek, the banquet and the Instagram friend request. He finds his footing and his steps in time with Yuuri while Victor falls behind as if showing them off. The music they chose has an incredible build and Yuri can feel himself smiling as loses himself completely. 

When all three spiral away on the last note, all three are grinning like idiots and panting. They don't say anything as they pick up their jackets, pick up their speaker and walk out of the rink. They don't need to say anything. Yuri wouldn't admit it but he's grateful for them. For the distraction. For their care. What a sap. 

Bidding them goodbye when they reach his floor in the elevator, he finally pulls out his phone as he enters his room and his heart skips a beat. 

**104 notifications| Instagram **

Eagerly he opens the app, confused as there's no acceptance of his friend request. 

The notification appears to be the comments on the photo of him and Katsuki. He has to admit when seeing it again he does look good, even better with Katsuki. They both seemed to have gone for a similar look, black skinny trousers, black suspenders and crisp white shirts. His hair is straightened, parted in the middle instead of over his eyes which have slight glitter on them, just because you know. It's fucking glitter. 

_JJ_Style4eva Wow, Plisetsky! I underestimated you! _

_Phichit_Sk8 Great pic guys! Let me take it next time!_

_Victor_Nikiforov AHH MY YURI'S <3_

He smiles at the likes and the comments (though the ones from Yuri's Angels creep him out), surprised it got so much attention on pork cutlet's profile. He saves the photo himself trying to ignore the sinking feeling inside him. It doesn't matter. He's thinking too much of it. 

It doesn't stop his thoughts later that night wandering to_ him_. Wondering what he was doing tonight. Wondering what he would have thought to what he wore seeing as he liked picking clothes out for him so much. He hugged a spare pillow to him, making his mind up to get his attention tomorrow however he could.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I have had this head canon for a while now. I believe that the opening with 'History Maker' for YOI is a skate they did after a banquet together. It just fills my heart with such glee to think that the three of them had fun to music together, looking sharp in their outfits. <3 I hope you enjoy this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it. It's fun to finally see it written out rather than just in my head. Thank you for reading, it means a lot! As always leave thoughts/comments - they're greatly appreciated! Em x


End file.
